


Plans For A Semi-Permanent Partnership

by pidebird



Series: Nygmobblepot Week 2017 Fics [7]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Telltale Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Pre-Relationship, edward doesn't die, edward gets drugged by the orderlies but it's not very graphic at all, oswald goes to arkham instead of blackgate, technically there is no romance rather there is the potential for romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 03:12:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12181803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pidebird/pseuds/pidebird
Summary: Edward is admitted to Arkham Asylum, and Oswald wants to help him plan their escape.





	Plans For A Semi-Permanent Partnership

**Author's Note:**

> Nygmobblepot Week 2017 - Day 7 - Free Day ( Batman: Telltale )  
> So this is something I wanted to write as soon as episode one of The Enemy Within came out. It’s sort of short, and I kind of want to write more for this sort of AU at some point in the future.

“So, Mr. Nigma, how are you feeling today?” The doctor, who Edward remembered as Dr. Lowe, asked the question with a clearly practiced tone. She had been here again the day before, to ask the same question in almost exactly the same way, before she drugged him and he fell asleep, presumably for the whole day. As the seconds of silence grew between her question and his answer, her eyes pointedly moved up from her clipboard towards his face, waiting expectantly.

“Delightful.” Edward finally replied as he glared right at the doctor, his own tone nearly emotionless and his voice slightly mumbled by the swelling of his busted lip. It was a pretty obvious lie—his whole body ached, his head was killing him, and he felt as though he could fall apart completely at any moment. The constant hurting made it hard to really focus on anything the doctor said or did, but he supposed that it was to be expected after fighting with the Batman. He shifted slightly where he sat on the edge of his bed, pain crawling up his spine as he moved even slightly, and he winced before he continued, just as facetiously, “Never felt better.”

Truthfully, Edward felt absolutely awful, emotionally and physically. He’d managed to underestimate Batman, gotten himself nearly killed, and then landed himself right into Arkham Asylum, just within a couple of days after his return to Gotham. He’d heard plenty about how supposedly untouchable the Batman was, but that was all just from lowly thugs and muscle for hire; no one who wouldn’t exaggerate their encounters with the Bat. Even if Edward had anticipated just how physically strong Batman was, he hadn’t expected him to be on a near even playing field when it came down to wits. Edward would certainly have to pull out a few more advanced puzzles as soon as he escaped from Arkham.

That was his plan, and he already had the bulk of it sorted out in his head, only within the few hours that he was coherently awake. As far as he could tell, from what the doctors were saying and from what he managed to vaguely piece together from his flaky memories spanning from his meeting with the Batman and now, he had been here for at least three days. There was a strong possibility of a fourth day that was spent entirely by him being too drugged to do anything but sleep, but in the whole scheme of things, even if that day happened, there was no use in counting it. Edward was hoping to not spend anymore than a few weeks here, total.

Arkham was certainly pulling out all of the stops in order to make sure the chances of his escape were as low as possible, seeing as every time they gave him another dose of painkillers it was just the right amount to render him immobile, and they’d done a fairly good job of making sure he didn’t have easy access to anything that could aid in his unspoken quest for freedom. Edward didn’t have to say anything about his plans for the orderlies to already assume that that was all he had been thinking about whenever he had the opportunity to do so. None of their precautions mattered, however, because Edward knew that the time would come and he would be more than capable to successfully escape the asylum, even if when the time came, he had access to nothing more than a ballpoint pen and a plastic spork.

So far, the only glaring concern with his plan, was the sensitivity of that time. From what he could surmise from the situation without explicitly asking about it, he wasn’t allowed to be questioned by The Agency, the GCPD, or by anyone else besides the Arkham doctors, until he had time to recover. Right after he had been incapacitated by Batman, it had been decided that he was to be held in Arkham so that they could perform evaluations on whether he was fit to stand trial for his crimes, and so that they could make sure he was healthy enough to. The doctors had informed Edward of his extensive injuries, ranging in severity from bruises to broken bones, so he figured he had plenty of time to really develop and initiate his escape plans, though he’d have to be careful to do it before he fully recovered, just in case the doctors decided he was ready to be questioned.

“Well, it’s good to see that you’re more able-bodied than yesterday,” Dr. Lowe smiled at him as she raised her pen up to point it towards the corner of the room, drawing his attention to the camera positioned there, before she continued, “We saw you walking around earlier, which is very good. From the beating you took, we thought it would still be another day or two before you were able to even stand on your own.”

“I see you’ve sorely underestimated me, then. That seems careless, doctor.” Edward replied, his words holding an edge of cockiness that was lessened slightly again by his busted lip. Regardless, it was clear that Dr. Lowe caught it to it’s full meaning as she made a hum of acknowledgement and her grin turned into more of a smirk, and she lowered her pen back down to her clipboard so that she could jot down a quick note on what Edward could only presume to be his file. Once that was taken care of, she promptly stood up from her chair and walked over to the door, where she stopped to face him again.

“I can assure you, Mr. Nigma, that the very last thing we are doing is underestimating you. Anyways, I hope you have a good rest.” Dr. Lowe didn’t wait for his reply to her unfriendly goodbye, knowing that he wasn’t going to give her one, before she opened the door to his room and walked out. Immediately, another orderly entered the room; a man who was equally as nameless as he was faceless to Edward.

The stiff way he was walking, and the hand that held something down behind his side, just out of Edward’s line of sight, made it evident that Dr. Lowe’s comment about rest held a malicious taunt. Before Edward could even react to anything, the man pushed him back onto the bed with one arm, sending a jolt of pain through his back and eliciting a groan from Edward. He cursed and tried, uselessly, to get out from under the man, before he felt a sharp prick in the side of his neck, making him jerk slightly on instinct, before the man released him a couple of seconds later. Edward didn’t bother to sit up again once he had heard the sound of the door to his room being pulled shut, followed closely by a click as they locked it behind themselves.

Edward knew not to expect any less from his current keepers, seeing as he was only days ago the biggest public threat to the city’s authorities, though he really wasn’t in the right condition to fight off the doctors at the moment, so all of their forcefulness was starting to get on his nerves. He snarled to himself, though it turned into a grimace as he shifted his position so that he was laying more comfortably atop the bed. It was less like a bed than it was just a cot on a loud, creaky metal frame and covered by a thin sheet, none of which was very comforting to his aching body. It was bittersweet, but he was slightly thankful for the painkillers. They knocked him out, but it wasn’t like he had much to do besides sitting and waiting for the opportunity to escape.

He turned his head to the side after a moment of staring up at the ceiling, having just spotted the barely visible browning outlines of water damage near the corners, to instead further familiarize himself with his room, though it seemed to be much more like a cell. It was a narrow rectangle, with barely enough room for the very limited furnishings within. The bed was pushed against one wall, taking up nearly half of the space in the room, and a lightweight metal chair sat in the opposite corner. Beside the bed, there was a very simple nightstand, made of the same light metal as the chair, though it was drilled into the wall so that the patients couldn’t move it. Edward had felt around the bolts a few hours ago, when he had first woken up coherently, and found that they were loose enough that he could possibly unscrew a couple without anyone noticing on the camera, though he doubted he’d need them as long as his first plan came to fruition.

After a few more brief seconds of contemplation and staring blankly up towards the corner of the room where the camera was, looking down right back at him, Edward realized that the painkillers were kicking in. He waited another moment before he flipped over onto his side, facing towards the wall. The action still hurt, but the pain felt duller than before, and his eyelids felt heavier with each pacing second, so he just let them close. Right now, all he had to focus on was recovering enough to escape, and not dying of boredom before then.

…

When Edward awoke next, it took him a few minutes to even consider whether he was actually awake or if he was just dreaming. Obviously, the effects of the painkillers hadn’t worn off yet, seeing as when he pushed himself up into a sitting position on his bed, he didn’t feel any immediate pain. If anything, his body felt numb and heavy, like he was constantly being pulled back downwards. His vision was blurred slightly from sleep and the drugs, and he raised his hands up to wipe his eyes in an attempt to both clear his sight and his groggy mind.

Edward had been sleeping pretty hard, but with the dangerous life of a genius criminal, his body had learned to sleep lightly and wake up to the slightest of disturbances. He’d been woken up by the sound of the door to his room being unlocked and then subsequently opened. As his hands fell from his face, thumping against the firm mattress like lead, he squinted slightly under the harsh lights above him and tried to focus on the figure who entered his room, the door closing shut behind him.

“You’re not the doctor. What are you doing in here?” Edward’s voice was slow for a moment, just like how the rest of his body currently felt, and it carried slight apprehension as his eyes finally focused. The man in front of him was wearing the same ugly, grey Arkham Asylum uniform that he was, and as far as he could assume, that meant he probably shouldn’t be in his room.

“Good morning, sleepy head. Did you have a nice nap?” The man grabbed the back of the chair as he approached Edward, dragging it over to the bed with a loud and constant scraping sound that made Edward glare, before he stopped about a foot away and promptly sat down. The patient smiled in welcome, the expression fitting on his features appropriately, but his accent really drew Edward’s attention. “You don’t recognize me? I’m pretty big in the papers.”

The man’s statement made Edward stare harder for a moment, his eyes studying the other’s face as thoroughly as he could as he raked his brain for a name. The man had dark hair, shaved down the sides, though it seemed to be growing out more, and a slightly hooked nose with a thin scar running over the bridge, and… Edward’s brows knit slightly together as everything clicked and he muttered, “Oswald Cobblepot.”

“Oh, good! It’s really an honour that you know of me, Edward. That means we can skip the introductions and get on with the talk.” Oswald’s tone didn’t feel quite as sincere as his word choice would portray, but his smile remained in place and he sat back in the chair, his hands folded in his lap, as he waited patiently for Edward to talk again.

“Of course. You were involved with all of that Children of Arkham nonsense. Now, what is it exactly that you want from me?” Edward restated his first question, still staring skeptically at Oswald from where he sat on his bed. Oswald’s charades as the Penguin were entertaining enough to observe while lying low in and around Gotham, though there were clear flaws in his approach to the city’s established criminal scene. The Children admittedly got much farther in wrecking the city than most new villains, so that was nothing to bat an eye at. Even so, Edward wasn’t really sure why Cobblepot would be talking to him right now.

“What do I want from you? I’m not here to interrogate you or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Oswald reassured him quickly, chuckling in amusement as he looked Edward up and down for a moment, as if trying to read him, before continuing to explain, while gesturing to himself and to Edward, “I’m here as a friend, Eddie. Dr. Lowe told me to check in on you, make sure you’re doing alright.”

“Don’t call me ‘Eddie’. And you mean Dr. Lowe wants you to make sure I’m not planning anything. I assumed she did.” Edward responded to Oswald’s claims quickly, almost snapping if it weren’t for his still-sore lip and how groggy he still felt. It was nowhere near as debilitating as it was a few minutes ago, though he felt himself swaying slightly and all he really wanted to do at the moment was lay back down.

“No, no, you’ve got it all wrong, Ed,” Oswald refuted good naturedly, while also making it a point to clearly use the different nickname, “I’m sort of a model patient here, and I simply want to help you out. Dr. Lowe might not be the most trusting of you, but I can assure you, she trusts me—and I want to be your friend.” Oswald was putting a little bit too much emphasis in his words, even for what he was attempting to put across, but Edward appreciated that he was at least smart enough to not flat out say what he was meaning to.

Edward was silent for a few long moments as he considered Oswald’s not-quite subtle statements. It was seemingly both a request that Edward include him in whatever escape plan he had going on, while also acting as an offer that the plan in question would probably be orchestrated a lot easier if Edward had Oswald’s help. It was certainly something to think about, and Edward was already running through different alternative routes for his escape, most of which would definitely be achievable with Oswald’s cooperation. Still, Edward wasn’t really looking for partners, especially after his previous associates had left him to deal with Batman on his own.

“Look, Ed, why don’t we both go down to the cafeteria? I’m sure you’re hungry, and I can show you around.” Oswald broke the mildly uncomfortable silence that had grown between them with the next suggestion, and Edward’s mind immediately tried to identify when the last time he remembered eating was. Unless someone fed him while he was asleep, or he was so drugged that he couldn’t actually remember being fed, the last time he coherently ate something was before being taken to Arkham.

“Fine.” Edward finally replied after another extended pause. He still remained unsure about the chances of things going poorly for both of them if they teamed up and escaped, but as a whole, Edward suspected that Oswald wanted to get out just as much as he did. From how outright the man was being with his offer, Edward felt somewhat confident that everything would go over just as smoothly, if not even more so, than it would if he were working alone. Besides, he was decidedly starving and was pretty enticed by the idea of getting something to eat.

“Great!” Oswald exclaimed jovially as he stood up from the chair, the action sliding it backwards a few inches. He stood in place with his hands casually on his hips as he waited for Edward, who shifted slowly on his bed until his legs hung over the edge of the frame. Thankfully, his pain was still considerably dulled, and it only stung a little bit as he moved around, though this also meant he continued to feel sort of out of it.

Edward waited a moment to fully collect himself, before he pushed himself up from the bed. He stood up pretty easily, though he wobbled noticeably on his feet, almost having to sit back down again, but he thankfully managed to stay standing. Oswald shot him a look, and his lips pulled into a slightly teasing grin as he spoke, tone softer, “You need some help there?”

“No, I’m perfectly fine.” Edward responded a little bit too quickly to sound sincere, and more as a phrase of defensive instinct. Oswald said nothing in reply, though he watched Edward with a raised brow and a mildly amused expression possessing his features, as Edward took a few more steps forwards until he was by the door of the room, where he had to hold one arm out against the wall to steady himself for a second.

Oswald pushed open the door and the two stepped out into the hallway, where a guard was stationed directly beside Edward’s room. The guard pulled the door closed as they emerged and he nodded curtly at Oswald and kept a carefully weary gaze locked onto both of them as they idled in front of him. Edward had vague recollections of being lead down this hallway days before, but there wasn’t much of interest, just a long corridor with patient rooms that were presumably identical to his own lining the walls.

Edward’s attention was pulled back from the rows of doors on either side of himself as he noticed Oswald begin to walk down one end of the hall and away from the guard, and he didn’t hesitate to begin following him. His legs were sore and he trailed slightly behind until Oswald took notice of this and subsequently slowed his own pace so that they were walking side by side again.

“This way’s to the rec room and the cafeteria, the other way heads towards the front entrance.” Oswald informed Edward with an even tone as they continued to walk, tilting his head to the side to make eye contact with the slightly taller man. Before Edward could reply to his information, Oswald continued sincerely, his voice hushed slightly, “I lived abroad for a while, but I grew up in Gotham. Still, I hadn’t really heard of you ‘till I was already invested with The Children. Pretty impressive stuff. If things don’t go to shit, would you be interested in considering a... semi-permanent partnership of sorts?”

Edward was mildly taken back by Oswald’s proposition, though he was also sort of flattered by how interested he apparently was in working with him. On any other day, and if it were anyone else, Edward probably wouldn’t have even thought twice about refusing the offer, seeing as not many others were even on the same level of competency that he was, but under the current circumstances, he wasn’t sure. Oswald seemed like a capable partner, from what he’d gathered from the coverage of the Children of Arkham incident, and Edward didn’t really have any allies once he got out, now that they’d betrayed him. A few seconds of extended consideration passed, before Edward’s lips twitched into a slight grin and he reached his hand out towards Oswald. “I think that can definitely be arranged, Oswald.”

Oswald smirked back and immediately returned the gesture, his hand grasping Edwards firmly, but not tight enough to hurt, and they shook hands before releasing each other and returning their attention forwards. Not a minute later, they turned a corner and Oswald pushed open a pair of double doors, leading Edward into the cafeteria. As they headed right towards the food line, Edward’s grin remained despite everything.


End file.
